Innocent Child
by Admiral IzuSasu
Summary: Itachi is a special black ops agent under the orders of a corrupted Madara Uchiha. A sick, filthy, MadaIta one-shot. I should be ashamed, but I'm not. WARNING: M for SHOTA / YAOI / LEMONS / and generally dark, twisted themes.


**A/N:** Please consider the warnings I've tagged this with, because it will be your own fault if dark shota makes your stomach turn and yet you continue to read past this line.

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><p><em><strong>Innocent Child<strong>_

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><p>There's something about youth that makes a person more, how to put it, <em>appealing.<em>

This is the muse that Madara relished in as he stared sadistically into the pure face of his "student." More like his new prize. His priceless _doll._ Something more along the lines of personal property, rather than something human, or something with feelings or dignity.

_Dignity..._Yes, this was exactly what the boy was stripped of, the moment he was stripped of his clothes. He was only 13, and yet, he was now without a choice but to reveal his naked form before the man he called _sensei._

How could he refuse, after all? If he happen to give the man so much as a slightly defiant smirk, the safety of his precious beloved would surely be compromised. That's right, a deal is a deal, and Itachi could not refuse this.

"Either you do as I say, or I'll be sure to administer this very same treatment to your innocent little brother...and once I'm finished, you'll be digging his grave." Madara had affirmed plenty of times before, and Itachi did not need to hear it again.

He took a casual step out from the thin silken robe that the man had ordered him to put on beforehand. This was going to be _his_ show after all, so he wanted it orchestrated perfectly to his taste.

The young male stood indifferent, as if about to enter the mundane routine of a shower, or as if he were simply changing clothes. This of course, was not the current situation, and in his mind he knew it was going to be another painful and humiliating experience.

Regardless, this was his _duty. _His only hope to keep the person he holds most dearly, safe. No matter what agony lay before him, he was prepared to swallow it like a bitter drink.

The crook of a twisted smile curled up on the side of the older man's mouth as he lavished in the flawless sight of the boy's fresh long mane. Locks of ebony hair so fresh, in fact, that the usual wear and tear of aging had not even had a chance to inflict damage in the strands.

Madara licked his lust-swollen lips and motioned a finger for the boy to come hither. The boy obeyed, and still with that opaque expression, walked slowly towards his sensei. Like a pet greeting his master, and out of routine respect for the man of higher authority, Itachi knelt to his knees before him, and bowed his head to a submissive angle. Silently he placed gently fisted hands atop his naked thighs, and patiently awaited his next order.

"You're pathetic." The man of power gleamed. He was enjoying this a bit more than he had expected, and was certainly not willing to tame his own blazing lust, simply for the fact that this boy was still a _child._

This _child _had witnessed war, murder, rape, and the like. Hell, this _child _had killed men many times his own age, on multiple accounts, without even so much as an empathetic blink of an eyelash.

This_ child _joined this group of special agents upon his own free will, knowing the sorts of horrors that he'd undoubtedly be subject to. At least, he _thought _he knew. Providing sexual acts to his "sensei" was certainly not what he had in mind when he enlisted in Madara's separate black ops unit where only the elite of the elite were eligible.

Despite it all, yes, I suppose you could still technically call him a _child._

But this child has been treated like a well-trained adult for far too long.

Perhaps, this boy was never really able to be a child at all.

"Sit on my lap." The man's deep, near-animalistic whisper echoed quietly across the air, perking the boy's ear to respond accordingly. Gracefully, Itachi stood, and rested his bare bottom upon the robe loosely covering the skin of Madara's much-larger thigh. He faced his controller with eyes a deadened reflection of something blank, like a mechanical reaction of a button being pressed to make something go.

The boy, obviously, did not show signs of arousal, and this only challenged the man.

"What's the matter? Do you not wish to impress me?" Madara hissed, running his fingers through the boy's silky bangs, tainting them with his vile hand.

The boy said nothing, and instead, closed his eyes, effectively blackening the image of the villainous grin that had filled his vision.

Sure, he _could_ have refused. Itachi was his favorite student after all, according to the man's own words. Perhaps all it took was a polite decline, or a gentle reasoning due to discomfort associated with the act.

But what would be the point now? It was all part of the expected routine. This was simply what he had been conditioned to do, just another service he would provide to fulfill his duty.

Perhaps, it was all a bluff...those threats..all in order for the man to get what he wanted. Some much-needed guilty pleasure. Some sexual release.

In reality, if he really wanted to, the boy could simply quit the black ops, and never hear from Madara again. He could be_ free. _

But at the slightest risk of his little brother, would Itachi be selfish for once? Even reasonably so?

Not a chance in Hell.

The press of a wet-warmth upon his head, and then again on his cheek, he sensed it. Still, he kept his eyes closed, better to just_ feel_ it, than to_ see_ it too. The sound of suction parting from his delicate skin resonated repeatedly across his ears.

A cold hand slid carelessly up the boy's side, and across his chest. No matter how good Itachi was at hiding his emotions, there was simply nothing he could do about the way his body reacted automatically to physical stimulation.

He could feel his cheeks become dusted pink, as the blood in his body recirculated into newly designated areas. Those chilled hands tightened around his waist, and pulled him closer to the chest of the man he was seated upon, straddled legs and all. A neighboring hardness veiled only by thin cloth, pressed itself against the boy's stomach.

Itachi raised the lids of his eyes slightly. He decided that perhaps, it would be better to perceive what was coming next after all, so that he could be more mentally prepared for the sensations that follow.

Madara wrapped his powerful arms around the young teen's frail figure, and brought their chests together into a tight brace. A violent pair of lips suffocated the much-smaller set that belonged to the younger male.

Slowly...ever so slowly he writhed against the boy's smooth body, tensing his hold onto him tighter with each wave of this hips. The force of a feverish tongue slickening the insides of his cheeks caused Itachi to voice a tiny pant. He clumsily allowed his own appendage to follow and twirl along with his sensei's.

He couldn't help it. No matter the circumstances, Itachi's blooming pubescent anatomy registered this as _pleasure. _Pleasure signaling heat...arousal...desire.

Madara continued in this way, like a dog in heat, drowning in the pleasant friction of his cock rubbing against another's. Like a ravenous animal, he would nip and tear at the boy's fragile neck and shoulders, speckling his torso with stains of reddened skin after each inconsiderate snipe.

A couple moans, a couple pants, gasps, and reels of the neck backwards into a beautifully contorted pose, the two created an almost hypnotic dance. Sweat and saliva composed an artistic picture on the skin of their faces, detailing their euphoric state.

Itachi knew out of experience, that the man liked to be stroked when he looked this way, so carefully, he wrapped a soft palm around the man's length, and tugged at it like he was taught to do so. He was sure to be precise in the pace of his movements, and the amount of pressure that Sensei preferred best.

Again, this service meant the same as a mission. He must do it correctly, and he must not fail, otherwise, he will have failed the little brother he so dearly wished to protect from exactly this sort of situation, and worse.

"Hm." The man smiled somewhat gently for once, and let out an arrogant sigh as he lowered a hand onto the boy's head, and giving it a push downwards.

This was not the first time Itachi had a mouthful of cock.

In fact, many of the times that he _had, _were not even part of this sick routine. Rather, there have been more sincerely pleasant, and intimate times that he had done this, and not with Madara, but with a real _lover_.

Madara let a deep groan reverberate out from his chest as Itachi drew in the entirety of the man's girth, and sucked_ hard. _

In secret, the boy imagined his lover, instead of this cruel bastard, as he graciously lapped his mouth up and down over and over again in evenly-paced waves. For a moment, he came up, and then ran the width of his slick tongue slowly up from the base all the way to the swollen tip, all while eyeing the man, but picturing someone else's face instead.

The fool, of course was not keen to this, and simply believed that the young male had genuinely enjoyed pleasuring him.

Well, if the boy liked it, then why not take it a stepfurther? Any trace of guilt, (and it's laughable to to think that he even had the slightest trace to begin with), was now eradicated from his mind, and he could freely touch, taste, and toss around the boy however he saw fit.

Madara clenched a large bundle of hair, and yanked the boy's head up from his pulsating member. Itachi coughed at the sudden force, a string of thick saliva still connecting his lower lip to the man's tip. His neck was being scrunched back into a painful arch, while the man gleamed down upon that vulnerable face. The sight of flushed cheeks and glazed-over eyes only fueled his inner thirst for the tantalizing build and release of sex with his perfect doll.

"Lay on your stomach." He nearly panted with a crazed look in those merciless black orbs, and shoved Itachi to the ground.

Of course he knew it would come to this, again..

Spread him out. Line it up, shove it in, no preparation. Thrust, thrust, thrust, until you can practically hear the drool leaking off his lips, creating a puddle onto the floor below.

Long eyelashes fluttered when the searing pain finally dulled as that sweet spot was penetrated relentlessly. A couple choked-out moans escaped his throat with each forward drive. Still, he imagined that it was the other man, his lover, who was the giver of this sensation. It was the only way he could bear the humiliation that he was allowing his body to be defiled in such a way.

Itachi dug his nails into the flooring, and arched his back up to the pressure against his prostate. It really did feel _incredible,_ especially when he pictured that lover, that _best friend_, about to release his seed into his heated insides, breathless as he shadowed over him while he did so.

Perhaps, he was a little _too_ good at playing pretend.

"Shi …. S.." Itachi gasped, and subsequently stifled his breath with a shallow exhale. His eyes shot open, realizing this wretched mistake. Madara stopped his movements.

He remembered who was actually on top of him, and now the blissful titillation immediately turned sour, into a stomach-ache.

The boy froze, and bit down into his own lip so hard that he may have broken the skin.

Itachi could feel the atrocious grin plastered all over Madara's face, without even having to look back at him.

"Shisui? Hahaha, so that's how it is…That's who you're imagining? Your partner?" He laughed, clearly amused, and leaned down close to the boy's ear. "Well then, tell me, Itachi, has Shisui ever _fucked _you like this?" He snaked the tip of his tongue across the boy's ear as sharply as his words, and took a bite to the rim of his lobe.

Not interested in any sort of response, the man leaned back against the wall, and pulled the boy's delicate frame roughly on top of him while pressing his length inside once again. He stuck two filthy fingers into the boy's mouth and held them there in place while he drove his hips upwards in violent motions.

Itachi was gagging on the man's digits, but was thankful to use the protrusions in his mouth as something to clamp onto in order to somewhat redirect the agonizing pain of Madara's cock tearing his sensitive insides apart.

The boy could hear the man's breath become more and more labored, the rougher he became, and despite the stinging twinge between his legs, pre-cum was still overflowing from his own erection. No matter how harsh the man thrusted, he was still _precise, _and was obviously making a good point to pound against the boy's prostate as deliciously as he could.

Funny, how cumshots are all the same.

The building of pleasure, stacking upon itself until both people are reverted to nothing more than an intrinsic, animalistic state. Something that lacks the reasonable mind to consider anything other than getting to that sweet release. Perception blurs into a swirl of heat, and inhibitions become lost into some sort of black hole that readily appears whenever one or both parties are on the edge of discharging their hot seed of life.

What is it, about semen, that is so satisfying to _taste_?

"Haaa" Itachi sighed, spilling all of that pent-up tension over his own stomach after the man had so generously reached a hand down to stroke him over the edge. Now, those tainted fingers raise up to his lips, offering the boy's own seed to him like a treat to be enjoyed.

Without hesitation, as to not offend the man, the boy proceeded to sip up his own cum off of Madara's fingertips. The bittersweet flavor coated his taste buds, and he quickly swallowed the syrupy glaze to rid his mouth of the strange texture as fast as possible.

"Hmph" Madara glowed, and lidded his eyes into a devious stare. Finally, he lifted the much-lighter male up, and slid his own expended cock out from him. Itachi could feel the still-warm cum gradually seeping out and running down the insides of his legs.

Not so gently, Madara placed Itachi back onto the floor, and threw his robe over the boy's pathetic form.

"That'll be all, so you're dismissed for the evening." The man stated plainly, and left the room to retire for the night back at his own quarters.

Itachi lay there, silently, with a blank face for the next hour, only wincing every now and then to a tinge of soreness that shot up from his backside. Of course he would react in this way. How else could he? Cry? Scream? Punch a wall?

No, what good would any of that do anyways?

But then, he did something even he was surprised at.

He smiled.

Yes, he smiled knowing that his precious little brother was safe at their family's home, probably sleeping soundly on a comfortable bed. His sweet head was likely resting delightfully on a plush pillow, and his body swaddled delicately in a warm blanket. He could picture the peaceful look on Sasuke's face as he slumbered, probably dreaming of going on missions with his big brother.

It was comforting, to know that Sasuke would wake up to the mouth-watering smell of breakfast in the morning, and that he'll have plenty of clean clothes, snacks, hot water, and access to medicines to keep him well, should anything happen to sicken him.

This was all that mattered.

This was all he lived for.

This is what made him truly _happy_.

He loved and cherished Sasuke more than his own life, and this degrading treatment was nothing compared to the satisfaction of knowing that he is protecting the person he cares for most in the world. For that, he would do _anything_, and he'll never waver in that promise.

Finally, he could close his eyes, and drift into the blissful unconsciousness of sleep, while thinking of his angel. His little brother, a truly _innocent_ child.

There's something about youth that makes a person more, how to put it, _appealing._

This appeal can be _corrupt_...

or it can be _pure._


End file.
